Don't Hate Me
by Mr.Khorosho Zima
Summary: When Miles comes home from the military, he will need help along the road of recovery, maybe a certain Babylon Rouge will be able to help him out, but what if he needs to use those skills to help his friends survive? Rated M for a reason, don't read if you can't handle gore.
1. Chapter 1: Rush

**Disclaimer: I** do not own any of the characters (The characters go to their respective owners). Only the plot. The sweet, sweet plot. Rated **M** for a reason.

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><p>Tails was going home today. He stood at the gates of the military base and started searching for a nearby store, the reason being; for a pack of cigarettes. It took him no time at all, getting on his Extreme Gear, which was a bitch to get, because of some information he had to fill out for his Gear which made no sense. One of the questions being: <em>'Do you know how to operate an Extreme Gear?' <em>why would he make a claim for a Gear if he didn't even know how to use it? It even had his symbol on it!

His breathe hitched as he had a flashback, he felt...distraught. He just wanted to soothe his mind with some goddamned cigarettes. As he set down the board he took a look around the base, seeing somebody wave him goodbye. He set his feet on the board, getting acquainted with it once more, he took a look at the man..._and flipped him off_. He didn't stop flipping the bird until he felt certain the base was behind him. He checked his watch,_ 'not yet' _he thought.

Now he just let the breeze hit his face as he reveled in the moment, glad to be away from where it all started. After a certain amount of time, he neared a small general store in the middle of nowhere, not really nowhere as it seemed to be a modern isolated community that lay near a bridge that led to an even bigger city. He stopped at the General store and hopped off the Gear, his duffle bag moving animatedly along his back. He guessed that it was a general store because of the fact that it advertised many things on posters, one of them being cigarettes _'Bingo'_ he thought to himself. Although as he looked at it now, it stopped him from viewing the name of the store, there were simply too many posters.

He walked into the store with his military fatigues, his boots causing intimidating _'thumps'_ along the floor. He walked along with his duffle bag on his back and Gear in his right hand. As soon as he reached the man, however, the store owner just stared in awe. He faced the little man- _yes,_ **_little _**_as tails' height had grown astonishingly in his 2 years of service, making him_ **18**. Anyway, so he faced the little man who was actually a cat of some species, He asked, "Hey, uh, can I get a pack of cigarettes, any brand." He added the last bit a little after he finished his request. The store owner immediately turned behind him and picked a pack at random, passing it to him along with a lighter. "Here ya' go!"answered the ecstatic little store owner. Either this guy had little to no customers or he approved of the military, his face souring at the last thought. He stuck to the latter. He stopped daydreaming and focused on the shopkeeper "Oh, uh, I don't need a lighter...thanks." The vulpine referenced to the slightly heavy square lighter in his hand, it was of the bulky silver lighters called 'zipper' or something except polished black. A memento of one of his fallen comrades.

"So, how much will it be?" He asked the shopkeeper. And the senior shook his head _'no'_ "On the house." he explained. He took the pack graciously and walked outside, his cap shielding the sun from his eyes. He looked around as he started hitting the underside of the pack, holding his gear under his armpit, as people openly eyed him. When he deemed it appropriate, he shred the box from its wrapper and peeled the top back to reach for one of the many sticks. taking one at random, he put it to his lips and sparked up the lighter, to no avail. He hissed in defeat and walked back in the shop and politely asked the man if he could refill his precious lighter. He put the cigarette back in its rightful place. The cat-man complied and started searching for his can of lighter fluid. While he set for the task tails had taken a look at his watch; _it was time for his medicine_. He called to the man "Is it not too much trouble to ask for a drink as well?" he heard an affirmative grunt and began looking for a beverage, oddly enough a flask of vodka appeared before him. It looked...appealing. The label said something about stainless steel flask. it could carry 10 ounces of fluid. That's all he needed to read.

Grabbing the flask and stuffing it in his empty canteen pouch, he walked over to the owner as he finally found the lighter fluid. Tails stared at his fingerless glove clad hands, with fur spilling out every orifice. As soon as he got the lighter back, "Hey," he started and the owner looked toward him. Tails slapped a 100 dollar bill on the desk. "Least I can do for the trouble." He left the store in a hurry to avoid protests from the man. He set off to an easy pace as he left towards nowhere. He pulled a small orange bottle and read the label. **'Miles Prower'** under that it read **'PTSD' **He was looking for the dosage and made a small 'Aha!' at the find. It read '2 pills a day' he unclasped the bottle of vodka and popped the pills in his mouth. Drowning it down his gullet with the hot sensation of alcohol. He wouldn't drink anymore, he didn't need to get drunk, not yet. He almost forgot he was carrying a duffle bag and tried hard not to topple over, to his relief, he righted himself.

As he jumped back on his board, he raced home, taking an hour or so to get there. As soon as he got there, he opened the pack of cigarettes and lit one of them and placed it into his mouth, taking puffs from the stick, the first few made him cough, but soon he got the hang of it. As he went to his garage door, he placed the cigarette in his right hand and took out the alcohol from before. He unclasped it carefully, so as to not burn himself with his own cigarette. as soon as that feat was completed he put the bottle to his mouth and used his right hand to pound open the button that would open the hanger/garage doors. The garage/hanger door was completely open, not noticing the many faces staring at him. He chugged and chugged away while all eyes were on him. As soon as he finished, he kept his gaze at the sky and proceeded to use his left hand to put away the flask and use his right hand to smoke from the cigarette. He continued puffing until he put his head to stare back at his workshop, he placed the cigarette in-between his lips. It was dark inside, but all of a sudden, "Surprise!" The lights flicked on and the vulpine snapped, using extreme precision to snap open the clasp to his knife and charge forward. He immediately put his knife to the throat of the closest one there; Sonic.

He didn't know. He couldn't have known. He didn't tell anyone he was coming back. His hard dull eyes locked with Sonic's. Their faces an inch or so away. Sonic was frozen in place. He felt like the world just took the biggest crap on him "Ah shit."


	2. Chapter 2: Show Me Your War-face

**Disclaimer: ****_I_**** don't own any of the characters, they belong to their respective owners. Note: This story is rated ****M**** for a reason. I only own the plot. If you couldn't guess, it's a slightly darker AU.**

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><p>There was yelling. Lots of it. He could only hold his helmet to try to block out the noises. He was huddled up at the corner of a semi-destroyed building. By the sounds of the screaming, they were losing. This wasn't supposed to be happening. But then, nothing ever was, he mused. A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He looks around and notices things that were flying through the air from explosions, things that looked like they belonged to <em><strong>people<strong>_. He then checks off the things in the air. **An arm. Intestines. Two legs. An article of clothing. Blood. So much blood.** He starts to rock himself back and forth. The sergeant that was barking the orders just stops mid-sentence and drops dead in front of Tails. As the sergeant falls, once his head hit the ground, his cap flew away and revealed the culprit to his demise. A bullet in the middle of his head. This was too much-too mu-he started vomiting right in front of his boots.

He heard foreign yelling behind him. His body was shaking, his instincts were starting to remind him that he was in a _warzone_ with enemies right behind him. The edges of Tails' vision darkens considerably. _'Shit! Shit! Shit!' _The boy cursed in his head, he had to act now! Right NOW! He was going to die if he didn't! What could he do? Maybe he should just wait to die. Yeah, he would wait. And as Miles finished that thought, he closed his eyes- only for a second as he opened them once again. He felt so-_so powerful_, something he would modestly argue that he hadn't felt for most of his life. He immediately got up to his feet, taking his time to brush the dust off his clothes caused from earlier explosions. It was as if he didn't care that he was in the middle of a crossfire, that he had all the time in the world. He leisurely walked over to a similar cowering soldier.

The soldier, whose name was Petey, had stopped his cowering for a second to witness the standing soldier. His pupils had immediately shrunk to the size of rice grains as he saw a _kid_ standing over him with an impossibly sized smile. It was creeping the hell out of him. The boy immediately held out his hands, as if expecting a gift. The man looked at the gun that was currently being cradled in his arms. He looked up again, and the boy nodded. "Wha-What 'appened to yur's?" The man questioned, the boy in question just nodded his head in the direction of the street, still live with bullets, where his gun lay, and the sergeant was lying atop his own. The man hesitantly handed it over to the teen, who was too stricken with fear to rationalize the idea of giving a _kid _his _weapon_. The boy holstered it, by the sling, but still held his arms out. The boy, slightly frustrated with the delay, pointed to his knife and grenade. The man once again handed them over and watched as the boy made to leave, pocketing the extra knife and taking his own grenade out as well, dual-wielding them.

He slowly stepped out into the open as the commotion seemed to die down as everyone was reloading. Immediately other soldiers who recognized him tried ordering him back-"Prower! Get the **FUCK** back here! Hurry!" His squad leader had yelled, but he simply looked back at her, his grin gone for the moment, "But I'm gonna' _finish the fight_, ma'am." And with that, his malicious grin was back, making some other soldiers cower. He looked back at the insurgents, as his blood-lusty grin was shown to his enemies, everyone stared in shock, but soon one of the insurgents shot at him, nicking his cheek. He laughed maniacally as he started running towards them as they started firing. Bullets riveted his body, in his legs, arms, and torso, making him look like a walking pincushion.

As soon as he got close, he released the pin on both of them, earning a _cling, _as he chucked one of them first, right at the enemies hiding in the building to his right, nailing the window. His arm screamed in agony as he forced it to move, it protested as he used all the raw power he could muster into the pitch. He threw the one to his left at the doorway, both earning him screams. This one hurt less, only because his left shoulder was unscathed from bullets, his right one...well, you get the idea. Explosions rocked both his sides and blood, accompanied by the rare appendage, flew at him. One of the enemies charged out from the building as he reached for one of his knives, aiming true, he had hit the man in his torso, most likely puncturing his lung. Others flooded out the building, but he was faster than that, hoisting the rifle into his arms and firing at each and every one of them, making the red liquid drench everything around them. He immediately turned around and took a knee, firing with more accuracy. His nerves were on fire, but he howled with delight, the pain exhilarated his senses, and made his adrenaline sky rocket. He sprayed each one of them with bullets. He reloaded several times throughout the ideal, around 3 times.

The noise had died down after he shot all of them down. Bullets and mags puddled his feet. He dropped the gun and stood there. His smile was gone as he adorned a more serious look, his eyes downcast at the ground. Suddenly his left ear twitched and he immediately grabbed his other knife from it's sheath, running at the building to his left as he let out a war cry. He noticed the man on the ground and curb stomped the bastard with the help of his heavy military boots. Watching with _absolute glee _as the soldier under him had his head caved in with a sick _squelsh._

Tails looked at another militant as he charged him with the butt of his gun, smacking it upon his head, the pain was intense, he needed a moment. So he fell to his knees as the man approached him, he went to hit him again, forcing hi-_or not._ Miles' arms grabbed the gun as his eyes locked with the man's, blood dripped from his temple "Wearing a helmet, _asshole._" Tails charged the insurgent as they both fought over the gun, shuffling around the area together, Miles was noticeably weaker, as the man was about to take charge of the-_or not_ as Tails had used one arm to sneakily snake his arm to the pistol the man had, he struck at just the right time too, when the gun moved closely to the militia's shoulder in the tug of war, he was able to grab the sidearm without getting noticed. Miles pushed the pistol snugly against the broad chest of the guy he was fighting with and let off a couple rounds, '_Blam Blam Blam Blam'. _The bullets forced themselves into his chest cavity. And with a '_thump', he was dead. _

He walked over to a door and dragged the last remaining soldier, he had sensed hiding, out into the open and out the door. Tails looked to all the soldiers staring at him and laughed, quite loudly too, as he made his way over. The insurgent protested with cries and pleas, but he didn't hear him at all. His smile was no longer there as he had fell to his knees, clutching his head in pain, and vomited. He was confused, what happened? He looked at the man trying to crawl away behind him as Tails got to his feet, and when he looked beyond the man, gore covered the ground everywhere. When he said 'everywhere', he literally meant _'everywhere',_ the houses were destroyed, some of it on _fire_. Blood littered everything, except a few areas of the dirt and cement ground that had been spared. _'My whole team annihilated those guys, what did they use? Did backup finally arrive or was it an air strike?' _Still horrified, Prower looked to the other soldiers who were just staring at him, shocked and nervous glances. He looked down to his hands, which were soaked, marinated, drenched, and any other word that basically meant that his hands were covered in the stuff. When Miles looked at his hands, his arms immediately hurt, and he could see why, bullets riddled his body, a few in his chest, most likely nonlethal, and in his arms and legs. Tails started shaking as he went into shock and hit the ground. As his eyes went dark, he heard a fellow soldier scream for a medic. **(A/N: Note that I just wanted to get a portion of Tails' dark past with the military out somehow, also note I wont do A/N very much, only if crucial.)**

Tails woke with a start. He jumped as if he was being electrocuted with something well, _electrical. _He groaned as he got up. Images from the other night flushed through his head at an uncomfortable rate. He held his hand to his hand as he tried to sift through them. Oh yeah, Sonic had been contacted of Tails' arrival by the military as he made his way home. Sonic had showed up with knuckles and shadow. They all awkwardly said hello after the whole knife-to-your-throat thing. Tails had explained that it was only a reflex he had been taught, which wasn't completing lying. After a few worried glances, they all decided to drink. When questioned on his own drinking and smoking, he had explained it was for his comrades. Not completely a lie, either. But that was another story. They all drank and had a good time. Well shadow didn't look completely convinced. But that guy was always hard to read.

So after a brief moment of sifting through his memories, he got to a stand, he immediately regretted it however, as the orange sun had pierced through his eyes, which in turn hurt his head. _like hell_. So he looked to an offending open blind and went to close it, after he did, he gave himself some time to recover form the pain in his head. After that was done, he went to shrug off his undershirt and decided to walk around shirtless for a bit. He went over to his flask placed precariously on the edge of his work bench. As he shuffled his way to it, he decided to look at the time, in which it read 5:45 PM. _Ah shit._ Sonic told him last night that he needed him to show up at a certain address for a special occasion. He needed to be there at 7:00. Which sucked for him because he would need new clothes and all he had was his military outfit, when something Sonic had said to him came up, _"Hey, Tails, when you show up, wear your military outfit, you know, to make the others think that you just came back. 'Kay?" _"Perfect. Well, better get to it, then, I guess." He said as he made his journey to his flask. As he inspected it, he realized that a third of the stuff was in there. he shrugged and made his way to the bathroom, getting some pills that would make the pain go away. As he downed the pills with the flask he carried, he made sure to brush his teeth and take a shower, cleaning his uniform as well. With half-an-hour to make it there. "Well, guys, here I come. I'm coming home."


	3. Chapter 3: Awkward Encounters

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. They all belong to their respective owners. This is rated ****M**** for a reason. This time for an entirely different reason.**

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><p>As Tails was flying through the air, enjoying his freedom, as he should, he took another look at his watch. It was around 6:30, and he was nearing the apartment that Sonic had messily scribbled onto a piece of paper during his drunken stupor. So Tails had taken it upon himself to try to savor the air around him as he flew as much as he could. His dufflebag moved around his back idly, seemingly enjoying the air as well. He had wondered what could have been so important anyway, did Cream get a boyfriend? No, they would probably be more wary of the guy if anything, for Cream's sake. Maybe Amy had recently opened a restaurant or something. Whatever it was, it had to be important, enough so for Sonic to advise him to come.<p>

Then a sour look came upon his face, no, Sonic, he wouldn't. He wouldn't call him to announce the death of someone, would he? He sure hoped not. He had to clear his face of his expression for a more happy one. He would have to stop thinking so negatively, it isn't good for his health, both physically and mentally. He had to shake his head a few time to get rid of the thought. He had left his flask at home, namely because he didn't want anyone to know his new 'problem'. It wasn't really a problem, now that he thought of it, he just wanted to forget for a bit.

_Tails_ hopped of the yellow board on him and grabbed it into his arms at the same time. The vulpine looked at the messy handwriting _'apartmeant 34, Tails dont loose this, its emport-tant.' _He chuckled at the numerous mistakes to himself, but as he was walking to the lobby, he almost tripped, causing a few of the people around him to stare at his mistake openly, "Fuck," Tails had cursed to himself. Embarrassed for a few seconds before his composure fell back onto his face. Miles slid the big lobby doors open and walked toward the man behind the desk, taking a moment to look around.

_'this place is huge! Is Sonic sure that this isn't a hotel?' _A sense of dread came upon him, hoping that he hadn't gone to the wrong address, he decided to ask the guy behind the counter who had a strict smile, for the customers, no less. "Hey, uh, is this place actually an apartment building?" The fox asked, taking a moment to look at the giant marble pillars and walls. "Why yes. Haven't you heard? Apartments shaped like hotels is the new fad!" The man gay-ly replied. When he meant gay-ly, he meant gay-ly as in homosexually. To be honest Miles didn't have a problem with that, but this guy was over the top. He was fine if you were gay, but that didn't mean you had to shove it in other people's faces.

"I see...well in that case, friends of mine are expecting me in room 34." The Prower had replied. "Sorry, sweetie. But you're gonna have to have more proof than that. You know, in case you're a crazy-psycho-bitch or something." He said it with such ease. Tails was now wary of the man, seeing as he developed a dark aura around him. "Alright then, I-" The vulpine was interrupted by another voice, "That guy's with me!" Tails looked behind him to find Jet, and Jet narrowed his eyes at the fox. '_What the fuck?'_ Why was Jet here? Wasn't Jet an enemy? Where were the two other that followed him constantly? All these questions and more flooded his head as he tried to understand and evaluate the situation. While Tails stood around trying to think the whole thing out, Jet stopped him before he short-circuited on the spot with a rude, rough shove. "Listen," The hawk started, "I don't like you, but Sonic and the others wanted to see you. Don't thank me because your ass could have stayed in the lobby with that weirdo for all I care." Wow, that sounded exactly like him, but darker, as in he sounded more antisocial? No, that wasn't the word. Oh yeah, emo. He sounded more emo.

"Thank-uh, no thank you." He stuttered. The Jet looked at him once more, scanning his body. "You're a tall fucker, aint' cha'?" Well trying to survive and grow up in a warzone due to the shit around you does that, or does it? "um, yeah." Miles replied once more. "Lucky for you, she likes tall bastards." This time, his voice was in some way, hurt, but also whispered, under his breath. He didn't catch it, "What?"

"Nothing." The hawk lied. Seemingly trying to pull the conversation away from him. Oh yeah, he had gained some height, making him a few feet taller than the Hawk. "What's in the bag?" He questioned and Tails paled. It contained some of his military equipment that he kept for 'safe keeping'. So he decided to try a joke, "I got me a few pounds of c4. It's to appro-pri-ate the pop-u-lation." He said the last few with meaningful and deliberate slowness, taking on a more redneck accent. The hawk chuckled a bit, "Hah, imagine that, Prower bombing the place." Miles had a painful headache when he said that, as other memories filled his head. He shook them away though, trying to keep his composure, it must be time for his pills.

They walked down the corridor, all the way to the end, and were found with the matching numbers, 34. "Yeah, they're in there. see ya." And with that, the hawk moved to the door next to his. "Where are you going?" Miles asked, confused. "To sleep." The hawk flipped him off and shut 'his' door. "Well, here it goes." The door opened slowly, as everyone was moving hastily around the room, doing something...important? Prower just shrugged his shoulders, the technician not really understanding what was going on. They all stared after he cleared his throat, "I'm home?" He questioned nervously. They stood like that for a second, soldier facing friends for a bit before- "Tails!" Cream had yelled. She immediately along with everyone else, glomped him, encompassing him in a lung-breaking hold of love. "Guys, can't breathe!" With that, they slowly piled off of him, giving him some room. They all laughed and he recieved many compliments on how tall or 'good looking' he was. As stated by Rogue.

Eventually, everyone started wrapping gifts and such. It was then that Tails realized what was so 'import-tant'. He immediately shrugged off his dufflebag, kneeling next to it, and unzipped it, looking for something he had that wasn't 'dangerous'. It was a few minutes after that he had found what he was looking for-Tails' favorite sprocket! He was sure that- that who wasn't here that he couldn't recall at the moment would like it, seeing as it came from him. He placed his dufflebag right next to the furthest wall from the door, trying to keep it hidden.

He wrapped a little tag around the tool, zip tying it, and placed it into a box with the little bow on top. As everyone else was doing the same thing, he began to write the; **_From: Tails To: You_**. Seeing as he didn't know who it was at the moment. As he finished that, he realized it was quiet, more so than before, with the occasional hushed whisper._ 'What? Where'd they go?'_ realizing that everyone went to hide, he guessed that he should as well. So he did the only thing he could think of doing, behind the door. There was enough space, considering it was one of those doors you could swing all the way open.

As he listened closely, it seemed that the birthday person had just walked down the hall. But the footsteps were doubled, meaning two people. He began to get wary as the corners of his vision darkened, he started to get memories, memories of when he hid in the ceilings, or underneath beds, or _behind doors_. It seemed that no matter where he went, he was always forced to remember. It wasn't fun, that much he could tell from the aftermath, but it did give him a certain edge, where all his senses were heightened. But he had to remind himself that he was waiting for friends, not insurgents! So he did his best to control his breathing as the footfalls got closer.

The door slowly opened and two silhouettes took their positions in the front of the doorway. He slowly stepped toward them with a smile, going to yell the surprise when- "Watch out!" One of the voices had yelled and charged him, immediately he shrunk to that visage of a 16 year old boy who had taken it upon himself to clear out two houses of enemies. His scowl turned brighter in the dark as his eyes narrowed. He blocked the punch to his face, dropping low to a sweeping kick. It was a success, signaled by a _'thump',_ however, the being grabbed him from their fallen position, pulling him below them, but that wouldn't work as he immediately rolled them over as he put a hand against their chest to hold them down, using his other hand to collect their arms above their head. Success! He stopped them! Wait. The lights turned on, revealing a struggling Wave beneath him, not anymore as she saw who was above her, "Tails?" She questioned with surprise as one of her eyes widened. He immediately looked down, seeing as he was groping her chest, he gave a squeeze, _once, twice, three times_. He felt the texture of the mound as he was temporarily confused. Then he heard a noise, which was her moan/squeak at being fondled. He looked at the rest of them to realize he was straddling her, his left leg was rubbing against the middle of her thighs! She moaned some. He was openly groping her! The thought took some time to sink in as he looked at her flushed face, her half-lidded eyes, her pants of breath hitting his face. "U-um, Tails, could you, you know..." Her voice trailed off.

Immediately he jumped off her, as quickly as possible, trying to correct his mistake, "Wave? Oh Jesus. I am so sorry. I honestly didn't mean it." He kept apologizing while simultaneously helping her to her feet. She took some time to regain her composure. When that happened, she wanted to know something, "What are you doing here?" In Tails' ears he could have sworn that she was happy than upset, but he didn't dare reveal it. "Oh,-at that exact moment, everyone had decided to jump out and yell "surprise!" All of them flooding her with hugs. _'you guys can go burn in hell, after watching me do all that and embarrass myself, seriously guys, fuck off.'_ He ended his thought on that note, not particularly happy at their lack of intervention. He hid his anger behind that little smile of his. "What's going on?" She had asked and many answers were thrown in her face. All yelling indicated the reason for the visit. It was Wave's birthday, but why were they celebrating Wave's birthday? Not that he minded, but they never usually did things like this. He went over to his best friend, Sonic. When he got his attention, Sonic's smile was huge, more than normal. Miles' smile had turned to a frown, "Why are we celebrating her birthday?" He asked snappily, trying to be blunt to get the information out of him the quickest.

"She saved Sally's life." Wait, what? It seemed that in his short time of normalcy, he had gotten well acquainted with the two words. "I'll explain later." He answered, giving Miles a pat on his back with his huge ass smile. Oh, how he wanted to wipe it right off his face! But he calmed himself, laughing as Storm, the one who came in with her, flicked some of the cake they took out onto her nose. Her reaction basically said _'want to try that again?'_ It was in a joking manner, of course. They had celebrated with cake and he was surprised to hear that she was turning 21. When she received her piece of the treat, she slowly and shyly made her way over to him, looking at her cake. He could tell from the vibe that she was uncomfortable, when her curiosity-"What's up with the getup?" She asked right away, rudely interrupting the narrator. "I joined and served." Miles had quickly said trying to be polite. "You? Join? Really now?" He looked shocked at her. Why would he lie? She was wearing a smile though, obviously teasing, "Other than that, you sure got big." The swallow had stated, while others snickered at her phrasing of her statement, her glare shut them right up. Tails was embarrassed for a moment, deciding that he should apologize again, "Look, I'm real sorry, for, you know." The lump in his throat made it a bit hard to talk, but he had to do this-apologize. "Listen, Tails, it's fine. You know, um, just be careful." Wave was forgiving him? Awesome! His conscious wouldn't have to suffer from guilt! Wow, that sounded dark. But Tails wasn't going to let it end on a sour note, as he was going to do some of his own teasing, "If that's the case, maybe I should do this type of thing a lot more often." Wave's eyes shot up to his, her blush unhidden. "As if, you wouldn't be able to handle me." She cockily responded, "Well from the looks of _pure ecstasy _I got from earlier, I think I'll be fine." She gawked at him and hit his broad chest with one of her hands, to say it didn't hurt would be a lie. He put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Idiot!" She growled at him, and seconds after they both started laughing, it died when they realized everyone had heard their conversation.

The awkward silence broke when someone yelled "Presents!" With that, everyone including miles, watched as she opened the presents. A small one was from rogue, it was square in shape. She opened it and revealed; Condoms. Wow. How...unsurprising...the look on her face though was grateful? Really? She looked over to Rogue as she openly thanked her. With Rogue responding back in a more suggestive tone telling her to be 'careful'. The next one was from Shadow and was a little bag, containing lingerie? What the fuck? She immediately stuffed it back in the bag and went on to the next few, being perfume and a coffee maker that was 'better than the rest' as Vanilla had put it. The last present was his, and her eyes gleamed in recognition. What had he gotten her? Only one way to find out. As she tore the box open, a little smile came across her features. She read the little tag that was zip tied to the sprocket which read, _'Tails' Favorite Sprocket' _he had labeled it to anyone who didn't realize what it was, but that was little to no chance, as she was basically the same thing he was, both technicians.

She had properly thanked everyone and only a few stayed for the rest of the party that was drinking. Miles was enjoying some cherry flavored vodka, as he sipped it right from the bottle. It left a familiar burn of liquid as it flamed through his throat. He wasn't getting drunk tonight, he needed to get back home. That was until Sonic stopped him, "Hey buddy, I know you were planning on going home, but I got you this key to stay here c'mon man, that way it's easier to visit you! You live here and it's a 5 minute drive or run!" Sonic had gestured to the door, "It's right across, kay'? Whaddya' say?" Prower would have resisted but the alcohol which was currently putting him in a good mood, and the fact that Sonic was begging him made his choice that night. Now, with key in hand, and dufflebag in corner, he would be able to relax for a bit.

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><p><strong>That's Chapter 3. Now please be kind enough to leave a review, if you have any ideas, do that as well.<strong>

**Now I know that I didn't talk about him popping his pills, but that's for a reason. Next chapter should be up soon.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: Rude awakening

**Disclaimer:**** I don't know how to say it nicely enough, but, here I go; these characters are ****not****, I repeat ****not**** mine, they go to their respective owners. Only the story. That's all. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, when I tried to upload my previous version, it got messed up on the site and my file corrupted so, yeah, sucks. Anyway, still having a hard time trying to come up with periods of time to post a new chapter.**

Now, Miles liked meat, like, really liked meat and it didn't mean he would go after everything meat-as in the metaphorical term that referred to women- and when he opened the door that late at night, dressed only in a _white-beater (as he didn't like to call them wife-beaters) _and some pairs of sweatpants that Sonic had already left in the room. In a slightly buzzed and tired stupor-he almost considered becoming a vegetarian-for lo' and behold stood Wave in a dress shirt that just barely passed her thighs. She looked up at him with big eyes and a sultry smile. It didn't look like she was comfortable. In other news, she _wasn't wearing any pants._ _'Damn those dress shirts'_ was his mental response to her attire. "Hello?" He must had been too absorbed into his own thoughts to realize her previous question. He accidentally started to drift back to his thoughts, while yes, Miles was a soldier, which caused him to have excellent discipline, it didn't mean he had an unbreakable spirit. She was crumbling away at his resolve.

She wanted a long night full of passion, and he was just the man to do it. Not tonight, however, and not ever. Not with her. She was an enemy, and he inwardly groaned as he remembered what Sonic said, but no, she was the enemy and she was going to use him-no. Voices piled in his head-**Enemy. They were meant to die. Enemy. Kill. Make them suffer. Die. Just stab it! Die. Rip open that tight little neck. Die. One snap is all it takes! Die. **_**Shoot her**_**. Die. She's a liar, they all were! They were so-SO LOUD.** He had to get a grip! He was losing it. On the outside, he was frozen, as his mind was being taken over manually. Taken over by the rage. "Let me in already! It's freezing out here!"

Her pouting tone was exactly what he needed to come back to his senses. The fox stepped away for the girl to get inside where it was much more humid than the ruthless cold of the hallway. He gave her an apologetic smile as he let her in, she _weirdly-_giggled a few times, gesturing to his living space, which was quite comfy. He would have given her a tour too, if it wasn't for the fact that she was only interested in one room of his living quarters, and it didn't take her long either, her precarious swaying had accidentally led her to his room. She immediately crawled into his bed where the covers lay in a disarrayed form from his previous motions of answering the door, she was snuggling the covers up to her chest, breathing in his scent. She looked up at him with her big eyes again.

The image of her lying there in his covers reminded of a more morbid image, as he remembered the bodies that were piled up **by hand** into a _fire pit_ and burned, and the memory became a reality when suddenly his room _burst into flames_ and Wave was turned into **another** of the lifeless corpses. Their hands moved slowly towards him, hell-bent on making him suffer the same fate. But he immediately turned to the door, not caring that the entire thing was on fire as he busted through the door with his shoulder as the hands moved to encompass him in a sludge-like mass of flesh. He took a right, to his bathroom, to find that his whole apartment was on fire, with flesh and limbs **leaking** through the cracks. His adrenaline _skyrocketed_ and his fear kicked in, telling him to **_move faster, faster than before_**. He jumped and leaped through the small areas not covered in the mess, hopping, rolling, and maneuvering wherever, whenever he could. He groaned though as stray flames brushed his head and face, scalding him to a few minor burns, hurting him like hell nonetheless.

He eventually reached his goal, however, as the destination the fox sought was his bathroom. His pills were there and he cursed at himself for missing a dose, these nightmares he had were deadly, they could kill him, just like in real life. So he had to be more punctual with the doses he had, these weird episodes he were having could kill him and others. His eyes widened as he remembered that Wave was with him at the moment, watching him do ridiculous things around his apartment.

That thought alone embarrassed him and he tried to think up an excuse, but couldn't find one that would explain him jumping around _like an idiot._ Wait though, what if he wasn't just moving to the bathroom? What if he was attacking someone else? That would mean-no, he didn't like the girl in his apartment at the moment, but-but what would it mean if he killed her? Was it his fault? Yes, it was, no matter what he did, it was always _blame it on Tails._ It had been that way since he was a little kid, he would always try and take the blame because he hated the conflict. Although one day they figured his little compulsion. He needed to have an intervention, it didn't work however, much to _boy in blue_'s disappointment. In any case, he would kill her. So he picked up the bottle, read the prescribed amount and popped them in his mouth, kicking the door closed sideways as he extended his leg, the fire was getting worse and the flesh-goop was becoming a liquid. Fear gripped him. He didn't like the image it was burning in his mind. It reminded him of _those days._ When everything was barbaric with no rules. When he was a mess of blood, bullets, and flesh.

His heart rate calmed down slowly, but surely. He gave an audible sigh.

**It's not your fault.**

What? What did he just hear?

**It's not your fault, you can't keep blaming yourself.**

"No." Miles gave a quieted grunt as he put his hands to his head.

**You didn't mean to. You weren't in control.**

Tail's eyes had burned up from the memories. Memories of his friends in the military.

"_Shut up." _He growled as his pupils shrank in size. He didn't want to relive that day.

_He _**_couldn't_**_ go back to that day. No. _**_NO! _**_They weren't going to make him! He wasn't to blame! It was their fault. _Their fault. All of theirs.

No. That wasn't right. It was his fault. He killed his friends. Ripped them limb from limb. The sick crunch of bone and the wet sound of ripping flesh, muscle, and tissue. He left the blood painted everywhere. When other soldier had found him, he was covered in blood as he held the two faces of his friends, ripped from their skulls. He had a panicked expression locked on his face, staring away at something unknown as he rocked himself slowly.

Oh god. The screams haunted him. The screams his teammates left him. "_I'm _**_so _**_sorry. I didn't want to. Please stop. Don't make me remember. I'm so lonely. Nobody understands. I have _**_no one. _**_They can't know. _**_Nobody _**_must know." _He rambled for quite some time. Pleading to some unknown deity to save him from his nightmares as his body shook with cries of sorrow and rapid breaths full of sobs. Nobody would save him except for himself. His body shook with the regret for actions he couldn't control, but blamed himself for, nonetheless.

He didn't even notice that the delusion was gone, suffering from his own psychological trauma. ****

Miles passed out sometime between crying softly and ripping his hair out, he honestly can't remember which came first.

…_After an undetermined amount of time_

Tails had woken to some silent cursing emanating from his living quarters, it would appear that Wave had woken moments before in a room she did not recognize. She began silently muttering threats of what she'd do to the guy that had apparently 'gotten lucky' and was going to have his 'luck' end up in a shitter. Tail's groggy vision and exhausted mind only let him hear in small pieces. But he got up anyway, stretching when he was sure his vision wouldn't black out and his mind wasn't going to cave in on itself. His body hurt from the crooked position he had laid himself in the bathroom.

As he slowly walked out of his bathroom and into his room, he had found Wave struggling to find proper clothing, throwing all the white-beaters out of the drawer and onto the bed in a messy stack. She continued cursing while she shifted through the large dresser. He lightly rapped his knuckles on his own door, more so to get her attention than his own, though it did revitalize some of his focus.

She turned to him and stood as still as a chalkboard, just staring. She however, gained a straight face and sent him a pointed glare, which sent him recoiling a bit. What did he do wrong? Surely she didn't think that he had taken advantage of her in her drunken stupor. Did she? Whatever the case may be, he had to set things straight before _anything_ could go wrong.

As she had approached him, she jabbed a finger in his chest several times. So he decided to open his mouth before assumptions could be made in acknowledgment to the night prior.

"Hey listen,-" but was stopped short due to her own ramblings, "I hope _you_ know-Do you have any idea? And after all _I_ went through-What is wrong with you?" And that's when he lost his will to speak, being reprimanded for things she didn't care to specify.

"Wave." But she continued on, completely unfazed "I hope you know that this is unfair!"

But he had enough, so he had to call her loud enough to catch her attention. "Wave-_ugh-_would you listen?" but she would have none of it, "Wave! Here-Jus-Would you let m-Please-SHUT UP!" She jumped, obviously unaware of her tantrum or of the fact that he just stood in place.

Ironically enough, after her little tirade, she was left completely out of air.

"Okay, now listen, I swear to you that I didn't-" He had tried, unsuccessfully.

"_That's_ not the reason I'm upset." She had stated it as though it were obvious.

"Then what is it?" He pressed, wanting to put an end to this one-sided problem.

"You said some nasty shit when you left Tails." Wait, what? _What?_ He didn't do anything wrong before he left, all he did was-well, he couldn't remember it now that he mentioned it.

"No I didn't." He shot back rather poorly. Clinging on to the fact that he was an all-round good person. Minus his rather _angry_-tendencies, but that was putting it nicely.

But then she said something that made him freeze. Something that didn't click and everything was wrong and nothing fit anymore a-_oh, why hello floor_-something's thrashing and he thinks it's his body, but that wouldn't make any sense because he was just talking to _someone_.

His vision goes from black to blurry to **why the fuck can't I see clearly?** She had triggered him somehow, he isn't sure what she said. His mind hurt from the needles.

NO! He doesn't want his medicine. He's a big boy and big boys **kill people.** There's the delusions of his friends who watch him from above a bright light. He wants to reach out to them and **drag them to hell where they belong**.

Wait, what was that? That's when he realized the sound of a thud, clearly something heavy had fallen-and oh there's ringing **everywhere!** Making everything so magnificently harder to hear and making his display on the world fuzzy.

The last thing he sees before he blacks out completely is the silhouette of his father.


	5. Chapter 5: Unleash the beast

**Disclaimer: ****You know the drill, I don't own any of this, it all belongs to their respective owners. I only own the plot. Thanks for the reviews and, yes, I'm a bitch for not updating, watevs :/ . Nah, but seriously sorry. If you want me to update faster, please keep dropping those reviews!**

**Anyway, Chapter 5.**

The words spoken to the incredibly worn and scared Tails sent him into a blind rage. Unknown to him, Wave had safely secured herself within the confines of the bathroom, afraid of the whirlwind of rage Miles had become. Sentient beings were such fragile things. They were easy to make _'crack'_ and easy to '_riiiiiiip'. _Honestly, why was it so important to fit in and 'trust' people? He'd be outright laughing had he not been tearing into some merc's. These were people undeserving of their breaths. Of the very life essence that coursed through their veins. They were covered in military garbs, desert camo pants, black kneepads and elbow guards, wearing tactical vests and helmets, the works. They had arrived at this hotel, if he guessed right, to find something. "Looking for something here? Death is the only thing you'll find." He had gravely spoke. His vocal cords felt abused. He was using such a strong voice.

He laughed maniacally as he broke another merc's back over the contour of his knee, this one was female, if he guessed right by the shriek. But now she was broken, thrown away at another and forgotten, oh how he was just _itching _to find a new playmate. A particular rookie, lynx if he guessed the right species, was backing away in fear at the sight. 'What a coward' was the only thought being processed at the moment. His vision was tunneled, hearing unimportant, but still working, the edges of his vision was 'blacking out' at the sight of his new prey.

He just stared in ecstasy as the other people were shouting at him, thing's such as 'why wasn't he dying?' or 'what kind of monster is he?!' and the like. They would get theirs soon enough. He charged, the others still pouring lead into his body, as he leapt for the scared soldier of fortune. This coward made the attempt of pulling his gun up, as fear crossed his features, but too late. Miles was on him, the vulpine pulled the man's knife from his ankle holster and shoved it into his knee, earning him a blood curdling scream. He _shivered_ _in delight_. The bone was split in an uneven half by the knife, blood spewing from the wound. He had been forced to one knee. The fun was not over, however as he grabbed the man's arm and _broke_ it. More screams followed. The bone stabbed through the fabric of his flesh and clothes, peeking out beneath the inside of his elbow. He picked up the private's gun and held up the barrel against the bottom of his chin, "Do you know what the definition of insanity is?" he questioned, motioning the other mercs to try and cautiously make their way to him. He didn't answer, so Miles kept firing until the magazine was empty and the lynx's head blew open. "Doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results." He spoke evenly, eyes normal and face blank for a second only to slit and fill red to the brim, gaining a huge maniacal grin again, all blue washed away in the tide. _YES! THIS WAS WHAT HE WANTED. _

Pure; Raw. Unadulterated. _Carnage._

He went and dispatched the men _and _(the few, as they weren't as common)_ women_, he wasn't sexist, he wouldn't treat the women unequally, _everyone was going to play; play until they were broken._ It was ironic, he would treat every piece of technology equal and yet, here he was breaking everything and _everyone_ in sight. It was a complete 180.

After all his playmates were done, he moved from the hotel room, yes, all of that had happened within one room. They had thought he died from a bullet to the head and tried moving in to complete whatever second basis to their mission was, how wrong they were. He knew they were mercenaries too. Otherwise they would have had patches to signify what military they were working for, only to turn up bare, with guns blazing. But his muddled mind was focused on bodily harm. He would move to the streets and cause as much reckoning and chaos until he was satisfied, but now he was bored, none of the people within the hotel would give him the fight he needed. As he exited the room, a man was to his right, a bellboy he assumed.

"Sir, you're covered in blood, are you okay? I'm going to call an ambul-" he was abruptly cut off as his face had been smashed into the wall, he wasn't dead, probably unconscious and nose bleeding, but he would be fine. Besides, these walls were cheap anyway. Made to look expensive and sturdy, but certainly not the real deal. He started down the right of the hall, walking the long corridor only to be stop, as his ears twitch, he hears something, something bad; he spins on a dime only to cross his arms in front of his face, making two parallel lines to cover his eyes as a huge explosion rocked him a good 10 feet away.

He was blown back onto his ass, knocking the wind out of him as his ears bled silently, it was so close to him too, he was lucky that he wasn't hurt, other than the bullet wounds from earlier. He only wanted the intense pain of whoever decided to _bomb_ _half of the fucking hotel!_ It didn't even occur to him that the explosion came from his room.

The short tirade of the bombing was short-lived however as he moved to vomit blood, 'That can't be good.' the Vulpine had said within the confines of his mind.

He gave himself a once over, to find that his military garb was bloodied, but intact, save for a couple of holes where he had been shot. "Got to look good for the party, don't want to disappoint."

But he came to his knees before he knew it. Coughing up even more blood and a bullet. They were talking to him again, that one little blip of sanity left within him. It was like an annoying bug; one he couldn't '_squish!'_ or _'crack!'_ as much as it annoyed the-ever-living-shit of him. "GO AWAY! Daddy needs to check on the party and make sure everyone is having a _good_ time!

His words are fractured parts of his memory; sentences and words float aimlessly about his mind, he doesn't wait for them to surface, whenever they breach the surface of his mind; that's when he will spew the conglomerate (made up of parts from various sources or of various kinds) words from his mouth. This insanity that he was plagued with, is a vile toxin that causes him to become something akin to superhuman as well as kill indiscriminately with extreme prejudice as well as occasionally talk from shattered memories, maybe even a few words on his current predicament.

It would cause him to say a complete sentence, a few words, or…..just scream.

But…it was _okay_. Because he, for a few insignificant mere minutes, would be invincible. He would be a ruthless god on a battlefield of disobedient subjects and he would send out the _appropriate_ sentence to them; for not acknowledging his superiority and brutal efficiency. Because. . . ._they would be __**dead**__ and he would be….-__**is **__still alive,_ and for those few insignificant mere moments he would not _care_.

There's scratching- it itches and itches, yet he cannot relieve the _itch._ It makes him remember his humanity and how guilty he should feel. It makes him scream down the desolate and dead hallway that reeks of death from the fire and flames, to the ashes, to the bodies. Oh god, the number of bodies is so incredibly high and he feels _**so so bad that he did a bad thing.**_But he can't bring them back to life because no one comes back from death. Because death was the final step in life…to** die.** But these deaths are not natural-so much so that even the word _unnatural_ doesn't quite fit it. They were exterminated. Like bugs. Yes. That fit it well. They were bugs and he was the exterminator-He _**annihilated them. Broke them down from the skin and flesh to the muscles and blood down to the bone-to dust. They were just speckled pieces of sandy dust on a large beige canvas.**_ Done. They were done, he was not. His thoughts are tossed aside as he grips his head with his gloved hands-fingers pressing deeply into his skull-the pressure rises and rises to a terrifying crescendo until the peak is right there-then it stops. His hands fall idly to his sides, swinging back and forth for a bit before stopping. The monster within is quelled; lured back to its corner and the human has been let out of his prison, to roam the aftermath of the horrible genocide that he's left in his wake. He breaks-he is broken-was broken-has been broken for a _very long time._ So with nothing left to do he curls within himself, a natural _human_ thing to do-to try to helplessly preserve the psyche that is left of the person. So as predicted-he faints; his body hits the floor with a loud** 'thump'**.

He finally wakes up this time-not induced by rage or anything of the sort as his mind gradually sobers-still missing information in his groggy state. He doesn't know why this is happening, why he's been tossed back onto his stomach as another explosion propels him forward, why, as he scrunches his hands to fists to pick himself off the floor that his right hand is forming a crystalline red crust from blood, why he was crunching _ash_ underneath his grip as his right hand becomes engulfed in the numbness that is shock. His mind takes him for another spin as he realize that he's been asleep for a few minutes-yet even so, it still felt as if he had been hospitalized and slept for a week.

The entirety that is his surroundings are covered in flames.

He realizes something.

His mind is slow. He was just about to get up and now he's running.

He runs towards an opening in the hotel; probably caused by an explosion.

He runs past the shadowy, transparent silhouettes of soldiers that are standing straight, lined up on the wall to his right that is intensified by the sun's rays, a delusion, probably.

Then he stops. He just made it to the outside of the opening. A crowd is far out there; watching carefully

Mom.

It's his mom! The Fox can see her. She is far away, but so close at the same time. It clears his mind.

What was his mom doing here? She was here to help him with his tainted, poor self. Yes, that must be it.

The delusions of soldiers is gone now. His mom is here to help him through this. With her help, he could get better.

So he runs, runs so fast that his legs feel like they are just a blur against the ground as his boots repeatedly hit the ground. Miles doesn't feel the need for bloodlust or explanation if he could just hug his mother and tell her that he was just so scared of himself, that he didn't know what to do, that he could be a good boy if someone could just help him. He wanted to wring the fabric of her shirt underneath his grip and cry like he did when he was smaller, clutching to her as he cried his poor soul out.

He was so close now.

Then.

A Blackhawk helicopter pulls his attention, was it there the entire time? The side door opens to reveal a gunner on the minigun. He tries to run even faster as the spotlight fixates itself on him, highlighting his person. It was directly to his right.

The minigun spins up.

Tail's foot pushes against the ground.

The gunner fires. Strafing the gun in a horizontal line. Following his progression to the crowd.

Miles hits the ground harder than before, not of his own will as he garners new bullet holes. His right arm is considerably torn by the heavy munitions as is his left leg. The arm in question is barely stringed to the rest of the shoulder. Grunting in pain, the Fox clutches the arm in horrid torrents, grasping and then not grasping. He is impeded by the gunner, his goal was so close. He reaches an arm out to his mom as soldiers surround him. There is no way out as all the soldiers constrict his movement and some bring even more pain to his injuries. He passes out from blood loss.

There was no way to avoid the gunner. It was clear, that man was experienced with a minigun and Miles was inexperienced in running away from one. What was he to do? Those bullets literally tore out chunks in the ground. There was no hope in jumping out of his firing range. Plus, he was in the middle of the street, how was he to succeed?

He knew that joining Sonic in that hotel had been a grave mistake. Wait, how were they? Did they die? No, the mere idea was incredulous. How was Wave though? Had she gotten out? She was behaving so weirdly too. He was so unused to her silence. Usually she would call him a name or say something vulgar about his skills, in which he would comeback with something similar yet turn her own attempt at an insult on herself, then they would share a laugh. But then she just showed up at his door. It was a good thing he avoided her advances, lest she try and take his virginity, which he was saving for someone special. Wait, how had his thoughts lead him to sex? Focus Miles, focus, now where was he?

He opened his eyes to a dark metal clad room. The ceiling wasn't that far off, and the table which he was lying on was white, while a light emitted from the inside of the table and projected outwards against his back. Where was this? Then he noticed the little detail and lost his shit. His arm and leg had been completely repaired. And he was nude. Why was he nude?

A bright light flashed and blinded him. It was coming from some sort of window that was melded with the metal. A speaker came on. A woman had spoken up apparently. But he didn't hear her. Only speaker feedback. Then he made out the shapes of the people from behind the glass. It looked like the woman was smacking the speaker again and again looking quite frustrated. Well, it looked like he wasn't the only one with communication problems. Aw yeah! Then he mentally face palmed, as his appendages were being restrained at the moment. God damn it, this wasn't the time to be joking around. Then she pointed to the speaker and pointed to one of the men, he nodded. The formal dress attire she was wearing only made her look all the more serious. She reached a hand into her vest, pulled out a pistol and shot him in the head. Well that escalated quickly. Now she had a man come over and fix it.

It sputtered again. "Hello terrorist and welcome! You are on death row for bombing the entire hotel." the woman had gingerly spoke.

"You have got to be kidding me! I'm not a fucking terrorist. I had nothing to do with the hotel bombing!" He yelled back.

"We already knew that. But a rowdy terrorist is a bad one-" Electric volts flashed through his body as he shook.

"Continuing on, we hope you please co-operate so that-oh fuck it, I can't even keep that up for too l-"

She was interrupted as Miles began to shake even more. "Did you guys switch off the electricity yet?"

They all nodded. Then the unspeakable happened, "LOOKS LIKE I'M ALL JUICED UP! PARTY TIME, BITCH!" Tails had shouted as his eyes pooled into red from blue and he broke his restraints. He immediately launched for the window.

She had gasped at first, slightly perturbed, but laughed. "You can't break this glass, its bullet proof." She had stated matter-of-factly. To which he responded, "There is no such thing as _'bullet-proof'_, only _bullet resisting_! AND MY ARM'S A FUCKING **ROCKET LAUNCHER**!" Miles laughed manically as he sailed through the air in something akin to slow motion, as he suspended in mid-air to come down like a military barrage with his arms coming down from behind his head.

When he impacted his arm against the glass, something happened; it started vibrating very quickly, while the woman just glared at him hard before exiting the room, the rest of the staff stayed behind, some panicking, while others just stared in awe, some even resorted to calling down some reinforcements. He hadn't caused any true damage yet, but they would need guards to restrain him.

Now the glass was vibrating and if Miles wanted to break it, he would have to match the rhythm in which the glass would shake towards him and towards the staff (like if you wanted to jump higher on a trampoline, you would have a pause in the air and continue bouncing, like in little big planet) So he gave another punch and the glass was acting sporadically. A few more and it would eventually break.

The next blow was with his forehead, uncaring that his head was now bleeding.

Footsteps could be heard outside the room he was in. Looks like they called in the cleanup crew.

He slammed the glass so hard with his hand that when it broke, it flew with such velocity that it killed some of the men in the room. The Vulpine quickly vaulted into the room. The others panicked and ran, hoping to avoid death. While Tails was busy with where he was supposed to go from there, a grenade had just been tossed into the room he was in, which was quite small if you took into account that 6 people were stationed In a 'U' formation, with the top of the 'U' as the exit. Luckily for him, it was a flash bang. Unluckily for him, he was now blind and his mind cleared.

"Holy crap!" was the only response he could give in reaction to the grenade's results. He heard movement and realized that the restraint-shitheads had arrived. So the Fox did the only thing he could do; hide. The Prower slipped into a vent that was nearest, trying his best to avoid all the circuitry and such, he slipped around the corner so that they wouldn't see him at first glance. He would have to bide his time, then get all the answers by slowly and tactically planning out his moves. Yes, that's what he'd do, wait for an opening and then take it. Shouting is heard outside the vent, in a very different language.

They don't find him. He lets out a breath of relief and relaxes, he would need the strength to carry out the already-formulating plan in his head.


End file.
